Broken Hearts

Broken Hearts Part 2

Chapter Two: Eight months Later, Tate

Since we live in a small town, I heard when Amy passed away and that the funeral was today. I went and sat at the back of the church and slipped out before Annabelle could see me. Just being around her, is still like a punch to the gut, but I always liked Amy and I think in some way I wanted to be there to support Annabelle through this difficult time as well.

The day Annabelle left me at the alter, has stayed with me every day since and changed a part of who I am. I've not been able to date anyone since, instead I've closed myself off and channeled all my energy into building my accounting practice.

When Prue came that day and I listened to Annabelle's message, I thought it had to be a bad dream. Of course, a huge part of me was furious with her for dumping me like that, but once I had time to think about it and put myself in her shoes, I realized I might've made the same decision she did. It just didn't make things any easier to deal with. I felt so humiliated. Our relationship had always been so easy and carefree and this was the first time disaster had struck. I never fully understood why Annabelle wouldn't want to continue living her life. Why she would want to put her life on hold. I felt like she was just panicking and instead of pivoting in our relationship, she grabbed a rocket launcher and blew it to bits.

I've done my best to protect myself since then. I've become cynical, bitter, and just don't believe in love anymore. Who needs the hassle and heartbreak? Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment, but I find myself standing outside of Annabelle's house, flowers in hand, but unable to make myself head to the front door. People are leaving and I can see that the wake is winding down, yet my feet stay rooted to their spot on the lawn. I watch Annabelle move through the living room and dining room and our eyes meet when she looks out the window and sees me.

She disappears briefly before I see her come out the side door. Walking straight for me, I take a deep breath and brace myself. "I just wanted to stop by and say how sorry I am for your loss. Here these are for you," I say handing her a mixed bouquet.

Taking the bouquet, she brings it to her nose and inhales deeply, "Thank you, they're beautiful. Did you want to come inside?" she asks me.

"Um, I can't really stay. I just wanted to see how you were doing today," I admit.

Annabelle glances back at the house, "The girls are all here helping me clean up. I guess I'm doing okay, or as okay as I can be under the circumstances, she says. "It was nice of you to stop by."

Turning I head back to my car, "It was good to see you, Annabelle. Take care," I tell her and get into my car.

I head back to the office and sit behind my desk hoping to get some work done. My mind is full of Annabelle though and I find it hard to concentrate. It was so good to see and talk to her. Granted, it was a bit awkward, but it's the most we've talked about since what would have been our wedding day.

I open my desk drawer and look at all the letters Annabelle has written me. I blocked her number on my phone and ever since she's sent me a letter a week. I have no idea what any of them say. I've never been able to bring myself to open them. They feel like live hand grenades that sit in my desk, ready to explode at a moment's notice.

Running my fingers across the letters, I pick one up and feel its weight in the palm of my hand. The letter itself is light but the emotional weight of the letter is enormous. Setting the letter back into the drawer, I catch a glimpse of the picture I have hidden under the letters. It was one of my favorite photos of Annabelle and me. It was taken the day we got engaged and we both look so happy. Now I can't bear to look at the picture. The people in that photo had no idea what life really had in store for them. I close the drawer and fire up my computer. Immersing myself in some work will be the only way to stuff my feelings back into my emotional box inside and get that lid back on. Fifteen minutes later, I'm working hard on a project and all thoughts of Annabelle and what could have been are tucked back away in my mind.